THE TROUBLE WITH ELECTRIC CURRENTS
by Ballyuk
Summary: A story about a birthday present, a hairbrush, a CD player, an empty dorm room and a freshly showered Lois rocking out with abandon until she's left 'Thunderstruck'. Set before and after the events of 4x08 (Spell), using an idea that featured in a deleted scene from that episode.
1. The pre-show

Author's Notes: I do not own the characters. Song lyrics written by Angus and Malcolm Young so due credit to them, AC/DC and any others that can lay claim to the song's rights. Also, credit to the episode's writer Steven S. DeKnight and director Jeannot Szwarc as I've borrowed from a deleted scene.

* * *

 **THE TROUBLE WITH ELECTRIC CURRENTS.**

* * *

 **The pre-show.**

"A fine choice, young man. I'll have it ready with a new ribbon by tomorrow afternoon. Can you swing by then?" offered the pawn broker slash antique dealer. The item in question was an antique in terms of age, but had been in use for most of its life and had been very well maintained to judge by its condition. Clearly the previous owners placed great value in it as it looked immaculate to Clark's untrained eye.

Clark stood by the counter of the pawn broker and antique store in Metropolis, nodding to the man and admiring the item, pleased that he'd found the perfect gift. While it was highly unlikely that Chloe would actually use it, the inspiration and motivation it could generate would stand his best friend in good stead in the years to come. It was an Underwood typewriter made in 1899, so it was well over 100 years old. Anyone looking at it would realise it was old but nobody would guess that it could possibly be from the 19th century unless they were an expert.

Clark had been thinking for several weeks over what to get Chloe for her 18th birthday. They were graduating from high school this year and he wanted to get her a present befitting of someone looking to move into the shark-infested waters of the big wide world, and who was destined to make a splash in her chosen field. A gift from the past to denote a step into the future seemed highly appropriate given how it was only a few months ago that everybody believed Chloe had been killed in an explosion while holed up at one of the FBI's safehouses. That she could look to the future at all was a minor miracle in itself. With Pete having left Smallville and Lana having found a new boyfriend, he'd found himself getting closer to Chloe. In a purely platonic sense.

He'd been discussing with his parents ideas for what might make a good gift, and they'd been generous enough to double what he was prepared to spend. It was Martha Kent's suggestion that he look for something that might help Chloe out as she took her first steps into the world of 'proper' journalism. Having considered a myriad selection of books, he figured that Chloe could source these from a library to help with her studies, and the university would be listing essential texts for her course in any case. He looked up journalism conventions on the internet but swiftly shelved that idea as it didn't exactly scream 'birthday gift'. Then it hit him. When he and Lois were searching for Chloe once it transpired that she might still be alive, they'd stumbled upon a name from the past that Chloe, Lex and General Lane had been using as a code name to maintain the secrecy. They'd been protecting her from any further retribution at the hands of Lionel Luthor. He was still ruthless, powerful and manipulative from within the confines of his prison cell.

Nellie Bly. Chloe's hero, and one of the pioneer's of investigative journalism at the turn of the last century. Clark discovered via a lengthy yet interesting internet search a great deal about Nellie Bly's life and could see how she was such an inspiration for Chloe. If he could find something that represented a shared link between the two journalistic go-getters, he believed it would be the perfect gift. He found numerous pictures of Nellie hard at work on her typewriter and realised that the typewriter was the perfect link. Chloe would no doubt understand the importance of a machine that was considered cutting edge for its time, and no doubt sped up the process of getting Nellie's work into the public eye. It didn't take much to learn that the typewriter was an Underwood, since those were the machines of choice in that bygone age.

And it was with that that he was now stood outside the store. It was Saturday afternoon and he wasn't all that busy. A thought occurred to him.

About a week ago, he'd been woken up shortly after 3:00 in the morning by the persistent ringing of his cellphone. Who would be calling him at that time? He'd only just got comfortable in his own bed after spending seemingly an age on the couch thanks to a certain bossy, opinionated and infuriating former house guest. It was the bossy, opinionated and infuriating former house guest who was calling him. Was this bed _ever_ going to feel like his again?

* * *

 _"Smallville, you up?"_

 _"Lois? Well I am now!" he griped. "You do know what time it is right?"_

 _"The night is still young, Boy Scout. And anyway, I wanted to call you before I forgot in the morning."_

 _"Alright Lois," Clark yawned. "What is so important for you to be ringing me at this late hour?"_

 _Lois wasn't slurring and sounded way too chipper. He could hear some other girls talking and giggling away merrily in the background. "We just got back from crashing a sorority shindig, and it's given me an idea so listen up. We should have a birthday party for Chloe's 18_ _th_ _in your barn."_

 _Clark was still half asleep and struggling to process what she was telling him. "What?"_

 _"P-A-R-T-Y?" Lois spelled out for him, sighing in irritation. "For my cuz, in your barn?"_

 _"No!" Clark insisted, the vehemence at odds with his slumbering state._

 _"NO?!" yelled Lois, obviously surprised at Clark's unwillingness to be forthcoming in marking her cousin and his best friend's milestone._

 _"No Lois," he explained, realising he needed to placate Lois in order for her to lower her volume. "Look, I want to celebrate too, but I have somebody from Princeton coming over that same day."_

 _Lois was amused. "You applied to Princeton? I didn't know they did agriculture courses." She could hear Clark's irritable groan over the line._

 _"History actually. It's a big wide world out there, and it's time for me to get out and see it."_

 _Lois was impressed. She was silent for a few seconds, smiling into her phone before speaking up again. "Wow! Who knew the farmboy wanted to expand his horizons huh?"_

 _"If Met U offer me a football scholarship, that's another avenue I'd like to look at."_

 _Almost immediately he regretted disclosing so much to her. Why did he feel the need to share that? He'd yet to discuss that option with his parents given how it was such a thorny issue in light of his abilities, and now he was blurting out the idea to Lois of all people._

 _"Aww, you wanna follow me to Met U," Lois continued to tease._

 _"Much as I would_ love _to discuss my future plans with you, Lois," Clark began on a note thick with sarcasm, "This meeting with the guy from Princeton is important. We can't have a party in the barn. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to return to_ my _nice comfortable bed."_

 _He heard the huff of disappointment from Lois, and picked up on her muttering "We'll see about that!" which made him grin for the first time._

 _Lois decided to take pity on him and end the conversation. "Well, I'll just let you get back to your beauty sleep, Princess Plaid. See ya!"_

 _Before Clark could utter a grumble or offer a retort, Lois hung up. He could only slump back into his pillow in frustration. She had a gift for annoying the hell out of him like nobody else. She'd broken his sleep and he was certain his protests about no parties in the barn were going to be ignored._

* * *

Met U's campus wasn't far away. Mulling it over, Clark decided he needed to clarify the 'no party' rule with Lois. He also wanted to find out what she might have bought her cousin. Knowing Lois as he'd come to do in a very short space of time, it was bound to be something from left-field. Lois Lane wasn't one for the conventional. Whipping out his cellphone, he dialled her number. After a few rings, it went straight to voicemail. No matter, he'd try again. Same outcome. The third attempt proved to be just as fruitless so this time he left a short voice message to say he was in town and heading for the campus. She was bound to reply once she learned he was heading her way.

He zipped over to the campus grounds where there were a number of people milling about. Most of them seemed to be chilling out in the small tree-lined park within the grounds, basking in the sun. The atmosphere was relaxed. It was only now that Clark realised he didn't actually know which dorm Lois was staying in but, as if the gods had wanted to provide some assistance, his super-hearing picked up the sound of loud rock music. Working out which direction the sound was coming from, he walked towards a building housing the dorms. It was as good a place as any to start. Opening the main doors, he stepped to one side to let a couple of girls exit. Both blonde, both scantily dressed and both clearly dazzled, they smiled and looked at him a little lustily. Obviously, hormones raged when young people were away from home and mingling with other young people.

Looking around the atrium inside the building, he followed the noise until he came to a door which you needed a swipe card to open. He'd have to wait until somebody came down and opened it on their way out. To pass the time, he checked his phone once more. No reply. Just then, a dark-skinned girl with frizzy hair, a slim waist and frankly _huge_ boobs opened the door, only to see a tall plaid-clad lump in her way.

"Are you lost?"

Clark turned around sharply. "What? No, actually, I'm looking for somebody. Do you know Lois Lane?"

The girl smiled, showing off her pearly whites. "Yeah I might." She was also giving Clark the once over.

"She's not answering her phone and I don't know which dorm she's in. I'm just following the sound," he replied, circling a finger in the air to denote the strains of what he knew to be 'Run To The Hills' by Iron Maiden. It was a tune that Lois had blasted out of his CD player at home on more than a few occasions.

The girl laughed out loud, nodding in recognition at how the tall handsome guy in front of her had her friend so accurately pegged.

"Yeah, dat's mah babygirl Lo, always bangin' da tunes!" The girl then offered her hand to introduce herself. Her accent was quite obviously urban African-American, possibly from somewhere like Philly, The A or Mobtown. "I'm Rhonda."

Clark shook it. "Clark Kent."

Rhonda looked somewhat surprised. "You Clark Kent? Damn, babygirl talks about you _all_ da time!"

"Really?" Clark asked nervously. What exactly was she saying about him? Wait…she was actually talking about him?

"Yeah," said Rhonda. "Man, you is a _lot_ cuter dan wha' she said!"

Clark blanched at that. Obviously Lois must have painted him to be a total dork. Maybe she'd been a lot more scathing in her description of him. None of that was of any consequence right now though. Rhonda was clearly in a rush to be somewhere so she swiped her card to open the door.

"Why don' cha head on up. Second floor, room 22. Or jus' follow da sound," Rhonda smiled once more. He had to admit she was cute.

Clark stepped through the door, thanking her and making his way up the stairs. Just as he got past the first floor, he heard the song change to another one he was familiar with thanks to Lois. Making his way along the second floor corridor, he glanced at his phone and wasn't at all surprised to see that there'd still been no reply from Lois. The noise was getting cacophonous as he passed the various dorm rooms, some of which were open. Then he saw the closed door of room number 22. He knocked on the door loudly, wanting to be heard above the din.


	2. The gig

**The gig.**

Lois stepped out of the shower, instantly feeling much more refreshed for having washed off the sweat and the ache from her 3-mile jog around the vicinity of the campus. It had been a bright sunny day and she'd wanted to make the most of the opportunity to take care of her physical fitness. The numerous late nights and copious alcohol consumption had left her sluggish and in need of a recharge. She'd ignored the leering and wolf whistles of an appreciative male student populace as she sweated away in her very skimpy shorts and a sports bra that emphasised her cleavage to a tantalising degree.

Towelling off quickly, she put on a change of underwear and another pair of very short shorts. Tonight was movie night with the girls on the second floor so it didn't matter if she dressed skimpily. She was comfortable in her own skin. Slipping on a yellow tank, she headed for her CD player, cranking up the volume as Iron Maiden serenaded the campus while she began to brush her hair.

She'd been slowly bobbing her head and silently singing away to one of her favourites, but it needed a different kind of energy. Something to really get the blood pumping. Iron Maiden were good but she wanted 'great'. Skimming through her stack of CDs, she came across 'The Razor's Edge' by AC/DC. Perfect! Popping the CD into the player, Lois turned the volume up another couple of notches, and this time she would be turning the air guitaring and singing up to eleven.

Angus Young's complicated yet mesmerising riff on the opening track kicked off, carrying Lois with it as she jumped onto her bed.

# "Thunder, thunder, thunder, thunder" #

The rhythm guitar riff got Lois really going, using her hairbrush as an air guitar before she brought it up to her face, mimicking the high-pitched screech of lead singer Brian Johnson. She had her eyes closed and was facing away from the door so she didn't notice the short sharp knocks on the door before it opened.

Finding the door unlocked, Clark stepped in and began to speak but his sentence was stopped short as he caught sight of what Lois was wearing and what she was doing. "Hey Lois, you know you…"

All of a sudden, the song lyrics seemed especially pertinent to him.

#"I was caught  
In the middle of a railroad track" #

(Thunder)

Maybe not a railroad track, but he was certainly caught.

# "I looked round  
And I knew there was no turning back" #

(Thunder)

Absolutely true. His feet wouldn't be shifting no matter how much a small part of his brain was willing them to. Also, she might notice him if he moved now.

# "My mind raced  
And I thought, what could I do?" #

(Thunder)

This was one of those moments where you couldn't _not_ look.

# "And I knew  
There was no help, no help from you" #

(Thunder)

Lois was shaking her ass in her skimpy shorts, long tanned slender legs to the fore, pushing her boobs together twice each time 'Thun-der' was roared out over the track and pointing her finger at that imaginary 'you' in front of her. She was totally oblivious to the fact she'd attracted an audience consisting of one gobsmacked farmboy.

He managed to note the scent in the air, so familiar with it had he become while she was staying at the farm. His irritation at her penchant for long showers and using up all the hot water was always tempered when he used the bathroom afterwards because the scent of her body wash would mingle with the steam still in the room, bathing it in a very pleasant aroma that had an oddly calming effect on him. He could never work out exactly what that scent was and never bothered to check the bottle, but TV commercials for shampoos and body washes always harped on about exotic fruits, delicate flowers and rare herbs so it had to be a combination of those. It was oddly calming now too.

# "Sound of the drums  
Beating in my heart  
The thunder of guns  
Tore me apart  
You've been  
Thunderstruck" #

He well and truly _had_ been thunderstruck. Clark simply could not tear his eyes away from her now. His initial shock had faded into a mask of fascination as he continued to watch the performance. Lois leapt off the bed and began to 'duckwalk' across the floor like Angus Young, air guitaring her hairbrush with abandon as the song was now in full flow following the chorus. He couldn't recall ever seeing Lois so happily carefree. It was a very pleasant experience.

Just then, again in keeping with the words, Lois gripped her knees and started head banging, her hair flailing about in all directions but drawing even more attention to her scantily-clad ass since she still had her back to the door. She was still completely unaware that she was not alone. Clark was now leaning against the open doorway, mouth agape.

# "I was shaking at the knees  
Could I come again please" #

Just as he heard those lines being screeched out, Clark's own knees began to feel a little wobbly. He also found himself wanting to see Lois do this again. Once it was over, he was sure he'd find the whole thing amusing and he was even more certain that she would freak out and yell a range of expletives aimed solely at him but right now, it was jaw-dropping and if he were being honest, highly arousing.

It took him a second to realise that Lois had bounced back onto the bed and was now facing the door. Any moment now, she would spot him surely? No, she still had her eyes firmly closed, completely caught up in the moment. The guitar solo in the middle of the song began, prompting another flurry of intense air guitaring. She was thrusting her hips just like a stadium rocker. Before long, the screeching vocals were back as Brian and Lois closed out the song.

# "Yeah it's alright, we're doin' fine  
Yeah it's alright, we're doin' fine, fine, fine  
Thunderstruck, yeah, yeah, yeah  
(Thunderstruck, Thunderstruck)  
Thunderstruck, baby, baby  
Thunderstruck, you've been Thunderstruck  
(Thunderstruck, Thunderstruck)  
You've been Thunderstrrrruuuuuuckkk." #

As the guitar riff slowed to a crawl, Lois was laying on the bed still air guitaring and arching her back as her hips thrust upwards, giving Clark an inadvertent peek at the valley down her tank. Her chest was rising and falling as she breathed in and out from her exertions. His brain was telling him to look away - _anywhere_ else - but his eyes remained firmly fixed on the lithe form of the girl rocking out on her bed. She rolled over onto her knees as the song finally finished, leaning back and strumming her 'guitar' in huge sweeping arcs, then dropping the hairbrush like a singer dropping the mic. The movement of her chest was even more pronounced now and her face was a picture of absolute bliss. Lois' eyes remained shut and the smile across her face got wider and wider with a definite redness to her complexion. He didn't want to say it, much less think it, but she looked like she'd achieved complete satisfaction after the throes of passion. That was the Boy Scout way of putting it at least.

The next song was about to begin but in the momentary lull, Clark's mouth ran away from him and he broke the silence.

"Do you take requests?"

Lois' eyes shot open as the familiar voice became the familiar face standing in the doorway in front of her, clad in the familiar blue plaid shirt and jeans. His expression remained largely neutral, belying the faintest hint of a smirk.

"CLAAAAAARRRKK!" Lois gasped and screamed, tumbling backwards off the bed with a yelp to an undignified heap on the floor. Scrambling to get back up, hair flying everywhere, she dived for her CD player to cut off the opening bars of 'Fire Your Guns'.

Her face, already a light shade of rouge before, grew even redder through a combination of exhaustion, fury and humiliation. All of a sudden, the silence in the room was deafening.

"How did you get in here?!" she shouted.

Clark was no longer bothered about containing his smirk as he closed the door. Lois stared at him furiously as she reached for her hairbrush once more.

"I take it you've not checked your phone then?" he asked, causing her to look over to her phone on the bedside table. She grabbed it and flipped it open. Sure enough, there were three missed calls from one Clark Kent. One of the girls must have let him in after getting the puppy dog eyes no doubt.

"How long have you been standing there?" she grumbled as the colour in her cheeks slowly returned to normal. She was still breathing a little heavily.

Clark smiled wide. "Long enough to catch the whole performance, Lois."

Lois glared at him menacingly, obviously requesting an answer as to the reason for his presence in her room. He took the hint and began to explain.

"I was shopping for Chloe's birthday gift and since I was in town, I wanted to know what you were getting her."

Lois steadied her breathing and coached her features into something altogether friendlier and less worked up.

"So far, just a card. I don't have the budget to go all out but I wanna treat Chloe to a night out in Metropolis. Why, what did you buy?"

"A typewriter."

Lois staggered back in an exaggerated manner, wanting to mock Clark for choosing such an old-fashioned and frankly inappropriate birthday gift. Her demeanour now made it obvious to him that she was going to crank up the jibes.

"A typewriter?" she laughed. "You know these days they use this thing called a computer, right?"

Clark narrowed his eyes. "It's a typewriter just like the one used by her hero Nellie Bly."

That stopped Lois in her tracks. She was surprised at how thoughtful Clark's gift actually was. It must have been pretty expensive if it was as old as something Nellie Bly had once used. Lois knew a little bit about Nellie Bly herself so the significance of the typewriter was not lost on her. Her own gift idea now seemed more than a little bit lame. Maybe she could muscle in on Clark's gift and make it a joint affair?

"Uh…OK. You must have had to crack open that piggy bank to afford it right?"

Clark put his hands in his pockets as he stepped into the room properly. The risk of full-scale warfare by the General's daughter had now dissipated.

"I haggled with the guy at the store and got it down to a hundred and twenty bucks."

Lois' eyes went wide. "One twenty? Wow, looks like you went all out." Then fidgeting on her feet, she made her offer. "If I give you forty bucks, care to make it a joint gift?"

It was Clark's turn to look surprised. Lois actually wanted to share Chloe's present with him? He watched her continue to shuffle nervously, looking at him with a hint of hope in her eyes as she began to brush her hair once more. He raised his eyebrows, wordlessly challenging her for an explanation. She sighed and bit.

"My idea sucks, and I know she would love the typewriter. So how about it, Smallville?"

Clark thought about it and realised it made a lot of sense. He knew Chloe thought the world of both him and Lois so she would be chuffed if they got together to give her one great present. He had already gone over budget with his purchase and Lois' contribution meant he wouldn't have to find the extra $20. Nodding his head, he agreed to Lois' offer.

"Great!" she exclaimed.

He sensed there was a caveat to her offer, and it brought to mind their late-night conversation about a party in the barn. He had to cut her off at the pass before she jumped in and seized the opportunity to arrange a party.

"I'm picking it up tomorrow afternoon, so I can swing by if you want to come along," he started, making his way back out of the room. Turning round, he insisted, "Oh, and no party in the barn. I don't wanna give the wrong impression to the guy from Princeton."

As he left, they both knew she would try to put the party on anyway despite his constant protests and her constant badgering. She would resort to guilt-tripping if necessary.


	3. The after-party

**The after-party.**

Clark and Lois were walking along the corridors of Smallville High, on a mission to give Chloe her birthday present. After all the witchy shenanigans during the party, the crazy and dangerous shenanigans of the following day, and the awkward tension of the day after that, they felt it was better to give Chloe her present when everybody was feeling like their normal selves once more. It was after school hours so the place was empty but Chloe was still busy working at the Torch.

"Seriously Clark, did you wrap that blindfolded?" snarked Lois, pointing to the badly wrapped gift in his hands. There was tape all over the shiny blue wrapping paper, the red ribbon had become twisted and loosened, and the decorative red bow was sitting on top looking rather forlorn.

It would be a pretty impressive effort from someone having been blindfolded, Clark thought. In reality, it _did_ look amateurish but he wasn't going to be fazed. "It's what's on the _inside_ that counts."

It hadn't escaped his notice that Lois was a lot less tomboyish since starting at Met U. Her choice of clothes were much more feminine and she wore her hair down and loose rather than tying or clipping it in any way. It really suited her and seemed to mellow her rough edges. The personality was still the same however, but the package was far less likely to stir irritation in him from the off. Maybe someone had caught her eye on campus and she was trying to impress them. Clark smiled inwardly. As long as she didn't speak, she probably would impress them.

Chloe was sitting by her computer at the Torch, putting some finishing touches to an article for the next issue when she saw her cousin and her best friend enter carrying a large gift-wrapped box. She knew they were going to bring over her present, yet it still amazed her that they'd chosen to pool together for one great gift. They would argue to the contrary but there had been many occasions where the pair of them were in sync. Very much like a couple.

Chloe took the package from Clark and set it on the table. She couldn't help but point out the shoddy handiwork of the gift-wrapping. "Gee, I wonder who wrapped this present?"

"I have many skills. This just isn't one of them," said Clark defensively, drawing a smile out of the two cousins.

"We would have given it to you at the party," explained Lois, before ideas of what may or may not have happened at the party became uppermost in her thoughts, "…but then…well, I don't know what comes after 'then', I think it involved words like 'naked' and 'dancing'."

She suddenly felt extremely nervous, especially as Clark was still standing beside her. When they'd woken up in the Kawatche caves, Clark was there. She knew he must have some idea of what had happened because she had no memory at all. The last thing she could remember was meeting Lana with Chloe before the party. She'd woken up only to find that she was dressed like a dominatrix, and she wanted to know why. Clark hadn't exactly been forthcoming about the attire, only saying that the three of them had been possessed by the spirits of 17th century witches. Still, Lois needed to know if she'd done anything embarrassing.

"You didn't happen to see any of that did ya?" The blush was inching its way up her neck.

Clark knew he held all the cards here. Neither Lois nor Chloe had done anything in particular that they might wish to erase from memory, but what harm was there in making them think they'd partaken in a hedonistic thrill ride? While Lois was airing her fears, he made a point of avoiding eye contact with the two cousins just to see how they might squirm. It was a way to get back at them for having been emasculated while they were possessed, and just a bit of harmless fun.

"Well it's all kinda fuzzy." He didn't sound at all convincing.

Lois began to squirm as the blush crept up further, but Chloe looked at him, dubious about his claims.

"How fuzzy?"

"I just recall a few birthmarks."

Clark beamed wide as he looked them both in the eye. This time, Chloe was the one to squirm while Lois half-smirked at his cheek for toying with them. Still, her face was blushing profusely now.

"Oh god!" Chloe uttered, a little mortified. "A girl waits her whole life to turn 18 and she can't even remember her own naked birthday party."

Lois then decided to turn the tables on Clark. She'd often accused him of checking her out even though she knew he hadn't, just to annoy him. She didn't know if he'd checked her out at the party or at the caves, but he _had_ walked into her dorm a week earlier and watched her air guitaring to the strains of AC/DC. Given how little she'd been wearing, he must have had a good ogle at her.

"See…witch-hunts, memory loss and a miraculous rescue by Clark 'The Pervert' Kent. Another typical day in Smallville!"

She grinned smugly at him, raising her eyes, leaving him to stare at her incredulously for being dubbed a pervert. He hadn't perved over any of them while they were possessed, and he hadn't perved over Lois when he'd caught her rocking out in her dorm. He'd simply not paid attention to anything else at that moment. _Wait, was that perving?_ He was now getting annoyed again.

Chloe broke up the tension because she still had a present to unwrap. "Alright, present time."

Sitting down on her chair, she tore away the wrapping paper to reveal a white box. Opening the box, she saw the typewriter. The glossy black keys, the brand new ribbon and the manufacturer's name stamped onto the back plate where the paper was fed in. Only one thought came to mind when looking at it - Nellie Bly. Chloe was so touched, her eyes began to moisten.

"Oh my god, you guys!" It was soft-spoken to denote how taken aback she was, and she put her hand on her heart.

"It's an Underwood from 1899," Lois explained, though she knew Chloe would recognise it.

"I know. It's the model Nellie Bly used when she was writing in New York at the turn of the century."

"We figured two great reporters should own the same typewriter," added Clark, to point out the thought process behind such a gift.

"Thank You! I love it." Chloe was getting overcome with emotion. She got up and stepped over to Clark and Lois, giving each a kiss on the cheek. "God. Thank you!"

Clark smiled. "You're welcome."

"This is the best birthday I _can't_ remember."

They all laughed, and Clark and Lois both nodded to each other. They had successfully managed to put their bickering aside briefly to come together and do something that left the one person who meant so much to them both absolutely thunderstruck. Not only was the gift of high sentimental value to Chloe, but it was a joint gift from her two favourite people in the whole world, and that meant more to her than anything else. She would soon rock the world as a reporter.

* * *

 **FIN.**


End file.
